


The Safest Sex Ever

by Neelee



Category: Happy Valley (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 01, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neelee/pseuds/Neelee
Summary: She was clinging so hard to Catherine that she felt embarrassed. Catherine seemed to be clinging to her as well, which made it all easier. There was a mutual understanding that it was the survivors’ urge to find somebody who understands.





	The Safest Sex Ever

**Author's Note:**

> I already wrote this after series one, as a sequel to my fic [Tommy Lee f'ing Royce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448064), so Helen's actual funeral hadn't happened yet, not like it turned out in canon. I never published this because I wasn’t sure if Catherine’s banter about her antidepressants and their side effects crossed too many lines. Now I decided to publish it anyway, with this content warning (also mention of sexual violence, but nothing graphic). My excuse is that I talk about my own medication all the time, and not always so seriously. And I think we need more Ann & Catherine content! 
> 
> Thank you dear aluckypenny for beta and encouragement <3

Ann parked her new red Mini on Catherine’s street. Her hands trembled only a little when she took the key and her bag and slammed the door shut. She took a deep breath and walked towards the house, her heels clacking on the wet street. It was late, but she could see the light in Catherine’s window.

Catherine and Clare had been at the funeral, just a couple of hours earlier. The intense presence of all those people felt far away on the dark and quiet street. Nevison hadn’t wanted any of them there, but he had still done all of it just the way Helen had wished for. Maybe it had been wise to do the traditional thing, to meet all of them at once, to have it done. Of course it was never going to be done, Ann could see the pity in people’s eyes and the question “How’s your mother?” was just replaced by “How are _you_?”. After the kidnapping, they hadn’t dared to ask about Ann herself and they’d preferred asking about Helen. Now that option wasn’t available.

Catherine pulled her into a hug on the doorstep. She didn’t ask questions. She gestured Ann to keep quiet and took her to the living room door. Clare was sleeping peacefully on the coach, telly on. They exchanged a little smile.

"You wanna eat something?” Catherine whispered.

Ann shook her head. The house felt like a haven, the familiar smell of it, the quiet voice coming from the TV, all the bright colours in the dim light. She had spent large amounts of time here during the past few weeks. Ann and Nevison had taken turns in the hospital. When it hadn’t been Ann’s shift, she had avoided going home and had come here instead. It had been so easy, no questions asked then, either. Sometimes she had been here on her own, sometimes with Clare, sometimes with Clare and Ryan. When Catherine was around she’d liked it best. Catherine bitching about her colleagues, Catherine arguing with Clare, Catherine coming home with Ryan, telling him off, Catherine playing cards with them and trying to cheat. On some rare occasions, she had had Catherine just for herself.

She was clinging so hard to Catherine that she felt embarrassed. Catherine seemed to be clinging to her as well, which made it all easier. There was a mutual understanding that it was the survivors’ urge to find somebody who understands. Their significant chat after Catherine’s birthday party was branded in Ann’s mind, but they’d never talked about it afterwards. Ann had stayed over that night, cuddled up with Catherine.

Now Ann followed Catherine upstairs. Catherine had been reading in her bed, a book and her glasses were on the pillow. She put them away and patted the bedside. “Come here.” A moment later they were more or less spooning on the bed, Catherine’s safe arm around her, their fingers intertwined.

“What is old Nev doing?”

“He passed out.”

“Not bad. But he’s not much of company for you, then.”

“He’s been wasted almost non-stop after… mum died. I’m happy he made it to the funeral.”

“Shit.” Catherine was quiet for a while. “What do you think, is he gonna go on with that?”

“Dunno. Guess not. I hope not. He has never really been into drinking.”

“Well, it’s not your business to worry about him. He’s gotta find his own way to cope. Just take care of yourself.” 

Catherine gently pressed her cheek on Ann’s neck. Ann started crying quietly. She hadn’t shed any tears at the funeral. Now it apparently was time for that. After a while, Catherine reached for tissues and pulled her a bit closer. Ann could feel that Catherine was crying too. She pulled Catherine's hand near her face and kissed her knuckles lightly. The freckled skin of her hands was almost transparent.

"Sorry, now you got my snort on your fingers." Ann blew her nose in the tissue.

Catherine chuckled, Ann could feel it on her back. "You've got the same stuff on your shirt back here." Catherine planted a quick peck of her lips on Ann's neck. 

Ann grinned. This was so them, going from big feelings to seemingly blunt comments and back to gentle touches. It was something Ann couldn’t quite explain, or define. She wanted to be near Catherine and Catherine seemed to feel exactly the same way about her. Catherine was a busy hugger even if her no-nonsense approach to life might have suggested otherwise. But when it came to Ann, she went beyond that, snuggling up with her at every possible occasion. Since the kidnapping, Ann had been feeling chronically cold. Catherine’s hugs were always better than two blankets. 

Ann had also spent a lot of time with her mother during the last months of her life, but she couldn’t look for comfort in her. She had decided to cope, to be strong for Helen. The only way she could make it work had been to be strong all the time when she’d been with her. They’d had really good conversations, but Ann constantly kept on a certain facade. Helen could see through it, Ann had realized, but it had been easier that way, and Helen hadn’t protested. She’d let her find her own ways to cope, and she must have seen that Ann wasn’t doing too badly. 

Helen had kept her facade as well, not wanting to drag Ann down with her during her dark moments. Fortunately, Helen had been relatively peaceful about her pending death. Ann supposed it had been Clare Cartwright who had seen the moments of deep despair, if there were any, and Nevison probably got his share as well. Ann’s hanging around at Catherine’s was a way to let her parents have their privacy. It was easier to stay completely out of the house than trying to be there and not think about all the things coming up and the discussions going on behind closed doors.

Ann carefully turned around in Catherine’s arms. It was a mistake, she already missed the soft cheek on her neck. Instead she got Catherine’s eyes. She couldn’t help putting some hair behind her ear and letting her hand linger on her cheek. Catherine smiled, gave her a more serious look, then smiled again. Ann assumed that she was going through the same thoughts as she was - that this was just too good to be true, that she was wondering what it all meant. If she kissed Catherine now, where would that take them?

“You silly lass, I dunno what to say.” Catherine pulled her closer and kissed her temple, but then pulled apart.

“Let’s have a fag. You don’t have to say anything.” Ann turned over and grabbed her purse.

Catherine didn’t move for a while, but then sat up, brought her pyjamas in order and looked for a robe. She opened the window. They ended up side by side again, leaning on the window frame. It was easier that way, looking out of the window, having something to do with one’s fingers. Catherine had loosely wrapped her left arm around Ann, knowing that she’d shiver in the cold air.

“Catherine, I just wanna be with you. I dunno… if it’s a crush, or if I just want to protect you from all the bad things in the world.”

Catherine didn’t answer at first. She pulled Ann a bit closer, took a drag, blew the smoke out. “I think… I feel the same way about you. But… I really hope you don’t mind me saying this. I can’t forget that it’s the day your mother has been put six feet under. I feel a huge responsibility for you. I guess you know that. I just don’t want any mess. But I don’t want to turn you down, not the tiniest bit. I... wanna be with you too. Whatever that means.”

Catherine looked for Ann’s eyes, and Ann tossed the fag butt on the street and dared a look at Catherine. Her eyes were a bit teary, smiling, and worried.

“I think I pretty well get what you mean, and I appreciate it. I...” Ann would have liked to touch Catherine, but her hands already were on Catherine's waist. She pulled apart and closed the window and let the curtain fall on its place. Then she kissed Catherine.

It was a smoky kiss, Ann would always remember that. But it was a nice kiss too, firm and comfortable. Ann dared to pull Catherine close, feel her body right next to hers. Yes, it was this, being able to touch her a bit more, it felt right.

Catherine pulled away gently but held her close, still. "I need to say this too. I can't put aside the fact that, not so long ago, you've been sexually assaulted. I want to say it loud, that I'm completely aware of what I'm doing and take full responsibility for it. And even though I'm saying this, it doesn't mean that I have to be doing anything besides some very nice snogging with you. And not even that."

Ann smiled crookedly at her. "So you're now done with your disclaimers? Don't worry, I might be perfectly happy if I'm allowed to snog you a little." Her tone was light, but she felt her heart racing. It was both fear and excitement. Even though she felt that she couldn't reach enough of Catherine with her hands, she wasn't sure what she wanted. To be with her, simple enough. To be good to her.

Catherine cupped her face but didn't kiss her. "Stay over. Take it easy." Like Catherine was reading her mind. 

"And let's keep quiet. I don't want Clare to pop in to say hello when she eventually goes to her own bed.” Catherine rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess she won't, she might think I'm with Ri--", Catherine cut off, looking embarrassed.

"Richard?" Ann chuckled, but she was a bit taken aback.

Catherine was blushing. She stepped back and sat on the bed. "Shit. I definitely wasn't going to tell you that right now. I mean, we haven't been at it since... Tommy. To be honest, the row at my birthday party was mainly about it. So I kind of unconsciously expected that you'd know about it.”

"I didn’t. Hey, that’s none of my business. I just… think it’s kind of funny. Honestly, I hadn’t been thinking about your sex life.”

“I know, I’m pathetic, shagging my ex, who is married.”

“Well, that’s convenient, you know what you’ll get. If it doesn’t come out.” Ann had sat down on the bed and moved behind Catherine. She wrapped her arms around her and let her head rest on Catherine’s shoulder.

“That wasn’t the proudest moment of my life, and there was more to it, in that row. But I don’t wanna think about it now.”

“I know that I’m not good at thinking anything bad about you, but… I think it’s cute in a way that you mess up things in this... that... department.”

Catherine chuckled. "Only you would think it's cute."

"Well, I feel less bad for dragging you into some dubious kind of friendship now that I know your history isn't all that decent."

"Far away from decent. And I really haven't been dragged anywhere." Catherine turned around and softly kissed Ann. They ended up on the bed again, limbs intertwined, looking at one another. Ann was exploring Catherine's face with her index finger.

"This is good. I think I've used some extra energy for trying to act somewhere near normal with you. And of course you can tell me any time if I'm being too odd."

"I suppose we're both equally odd." Catherine's hand wandered on the bare skin on Ann's back, under her shirt. Her expression was somewhere between embarrassed, amused, and extremely gentle. Ann could sense that Catherine was still fighting a voice inside her head telling her that she shouldn't be doing this even though she’d already chosen to face the oddness of it and be honest to herself and to Ann.

"I don't know if I'm deceiving myself when I think that I'm old enough to know that there aren’t rules for every odd situation in life. As long as it's mutual and consensual. If it feels as good as this." 

Ann let herself sink into Catherine’s eyes. She leaned in, carefully moving her knee a bit between Catherine’s thighs, letting her body weight press Catherine to the bed. She observed Catherine’s face closely. Catherine looked back steadily, keeping a poker-face. Suddenly she cracked a broad smile.

“I’m sorry, but I have to ask you - are you on antidepressants? Because I am.”

Ann didn’t get the point of the question and felt quite taken aback. “Yeah, why?”

“I dunno how it works for you, but… 30 milligrams of citalopram really kick in. I’m sorry, this is awkward as hell, but I need to say it. So you don’t know the side effect?”

For once, Ann was slightly annoyed by Catherine’s total disregard of privacy. “Try to get to your point!”

“Okay. When I’m on these pills, I can be pretty sure that nothing really turns me on, and even if it happened, I couldn’t come anyway.” Catherine had fought back her amusement, and was looking gently at Ann, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry about the way I brought it up, but I really didn’t think about it earlier. This is kind of extraordinary, anyway, I’m wondering what I really want and then I realise that I’m actually out of the game.”

“You really are the master of pillow talk, did you know that?” Ann couldn’t help grinning. Catherine talking about lust, or, as in this case, about the lack of it, touched some nerve in her, in a good way. “I’m on 20 milligrams, if I’m remembering it right. Honestly, I dunno how that stuff works on me. I haven’t… tried it out.” She was blushing but dared a little move against Catherine’s hips. They burst out laughing, tried to keep it quiet and giggled even more.

Catherine was wiping her cheeks. “I think it’s the most common side effect. So don’t hold your breath.” She gave Ann the sassiest look ever.

“Shut it! I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. With anyone.”

Catherine didn’t shut up. “The safest sex ever, two doped and more or less traumatised women cuddling with clothes on, one making sure that nothing’s ever gonna happen because she can’t shut her bad mouth.”

Ann rolled her eyes. There wasn’t much to say. This woman was incredible. “What do you think, is there really a risk that Clare will pop in?”

“No, I don’t think to. But Ryan might come in in the morning.”

“So this traumatised woman can take her clothes off if she just manages to have something on her when she’ll be woken up by the room service.”

“That would be nice. I mean, both things. If you still feel like it. I might be the worst pillow-talker ever, and I might be a doped wreck when it comes to certain things, but I still… want to be with you. To feel you.”

Ann kissed her. It was a bit different now, maybe because of the conversation they’ve had. She felt more relaxed. This wasn’t leading to anywhere awkward and messy. It had been lovely to kiss the gentle and devoted Catherine before, but this straightforward and sassy one was even better.

After a while, Ann finally had Catherine’s bare skin under her hands. It was less exciting than she had thought it would be, but it was lovely. There was a clear cautiousness - they really were doing this, and it couldn’t be undone, it couldn’t be explained as comfort and care between friends. It actually was exactly that, but it was something else as well. It was Catherine’s gentle hands caressing her breasts, it was the lovely weight of Catherine’s thigh pressing her legs apart. It was very comfortable, and less scary than she ever could have thought.

"I know that I should keep my big mouth shut. I decided not to ask. But..." Ann had been kissing Catherine's breasts. She stopped and leaned back, taking a 'I'm listening' pose.

"Blurt it out, I know it's coming anyway."

"I don't know anything about your history. I mean about relationships. You don't have to tell, of course not, but I just can't help saying that I'm curious." 

Ann smiled. "I suppose you'd like to know if I've ever been with a woman." 

Catherine lifted her eyebrows. "Have you?"

"Yes and no. When I went to school, there was a good friend of mine, and it might have become something, if we'd dared to give it a try. At college, there was a drunken shag, a bad one. What about you?" 

Catherine smiled too. "I don't have anything to tell, I think. When I was training, I hung about with a flock of lesbians and didn't care if I was mistaken to be one of them. I've never explicitly defined myself to be straight, but when you look back at my history, I think I am. Of course, if I wasn't on medication, I'd happily be your second bad shag."

Ann chuckled. "I think I'm bisexual, if I had to pick something. My history with men, well rather with boys, isn't so exciting either. I did a lot of stuff when I went to school, mostly just to annoy my dad. And there was a kind of proper boyfriend when I went to college, but I never planned a future with him. He was a party animal and I liked to shag him, and he was bad enough to annoy my dad. Just perfect."

"So now I know."

"So now you know... that there's the awkward possibility that I might fall in love with you and make things complicated."

"That would be something." Catherine's voice was amused, but the warm look in her eyes told Ann that she might understand.

\--

In the morning, Ryan came to wake Ann up. It was late, Catherine had already gone downstairs.

"Auntie Clare wants to know how you want your eggs." Ryan was jumping up and down on the bed, seemingly happy to see Ann.

Ann met Catherine on the stairs. Catherine wrapped an arm around her and whispered into her ear, voice purring: "Wipe that satisfied smile off your face, love."

"What did you tell Clare? That I'm having a breakdown?"

"Something like that."

“Great.”


End file.
